Work Hard, Party Harder
by FrozenStrawberries
Summary: A collection of one shots pin pointing Kurt's experience at Dalton, and his relationship with Blaine. Each chapter theme is a subject taught at Dalton, and revolves around the extra curricular activities the pair get up to. Klaine.
1. Art

**A/N: So this is going to be a bunch of one-shots, each themed with a school subject. Expect Klaine :)**

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**Art.**

Kurt was lying, face down, on his bed in his new dorm room at Dalton. His head swam with all the colours he had seen in the past hour, and his fingers ached from all the tugging he'd been forced to do, straightening collars and sleeves.

It had started a few weeks ago.

There he was, the new boy, minding his own business, when one of the Warblers had mentioned something about a first date. Of course, it had been pretty tough those first few days to get involved in a conversation, but this at least he had experience with. How many times had he sat and listened in on Santana's and Britney's conversations on their love lives? He would stick an uninterested look on his face whilst eavesdropping and finding out every gory detail, from kissing technique and what they wore, to how they perceived their dates through actions and dress. He would mentally scorn the unfashionable boys who turned up to take the girls out, snorting aloud once or twice at the downright ridiculous outfits Santana described. He knew some people were misguided, but to turn up for a date in _wellingtons?_

But Kurt's love for makeovers, be it personal or interior design, had drooped slightly with his move to Dalton, but here was his chance to return to his calling; fashion.

Therefore, he reasoned, he was perfectly qualified to utter, "So what are you going to wear?"

A hush fell over the common room, and he started. He'd over stepped the mark. That was too feminine. He may not get harassed here, but he suspected something else must go on within Dalton's prim and proper halls. Maybe they'd steal his stuff? Or just mess up his perfectly organised wardrobe? There must be-

Then he realised the hush wasn't because they were glaring at him. They were looking at the Warbler (Brad, if Kurt remembered correctly?) with expectant gazes.

Brad twisted his mouth to the side and looked away. "I have no idea."

A light switched on in Kurt's head. A sneaky gleam in his eyes he replied, "Nothing too formal, it's only dinner and a movie. Yet, you don't want to appear so casual you haven't made any effort at all."

The poor boy stared, "Girls... they read into that?"

"Of course!" Kurt said, shocked. Other pairs of eyes began to fix on him. It seemed he had an uneducated audience in front of him.

"First impressions mean a lot. The once over look a girl will give can mark you down as sloppy, lazy, and ignorant if you dress badly." Had this many boys been so fixated on Kurt before? "Please tell me some of you had realised this?"

Heads shook.

Kurt gave a sly smile. "It's lucky you have me now then, isn't it?"

And yes, the boys were lucky to have Kurt. Brad's date had been a complete success, ("She said the jumper really brought out my eyes, and she always appreciates a boy with good shoes! She even let me-" "_TMI Brad!_") Word had soon spread amongst the dorms about the new boy who, given ten minutes, would ramble on about colour scheme and something called '_complimenting your skin tone'_.

So with the odd date here, a meeting with the parents there, and a casual Friday tossed in, Kurt found himself a little happier with his standing as Dalton's fashionista.

That is, until now. The Senior Dinner at Dalton's sister school, St Margaret's was tonight, a Saturday night. The dress code had been set as 'casual-formal' leading to confusion amongst the older boys and mass panic. Who else could they turn to?

They began in a trickle at the start of the week, with a light knock on his door on Monday.

"Come in!" Kurt yelled, leisurely flicking through his latest Vogue, pulling out pages and piling them up on his table.

"Kurt? Hi, I'm Jack, one of Brad's friends." Kurt resisted to roll his eyes_, _being 'friends with Brad' had been taken as some sort of code for 'help-me-i'm-having-a-fashion-crisis!' Some things could never be changed about an private all boys school, and apparently admitting to needing help in looking good was one of them.

"Where are you going?"

The boy looked relieved he didn't have to ask Kurt outright. "My girlfriend is at the sister school, and there's this meal on Saturday for the Seniors from both schools, and the invite says casual formal. But what even is casual formal? I tried looking online but-"

"Stop right there. Bring me the invite and any shirts, _smart _trousers, and non-school ties you own." Kurt cut the boy off in a clipped, business-like tone.

When Jack returned a few minutes later, Kurt spent at least half an hour pouring over the invite and forcing the boy into various outfits before resorting to lending him one of his precious bow ties with a warning that, "If you get so much as a drop of _drool_ on this, then so help me god I will crush you like a bug!"

The boy didn't seem put out that he was being threatened by a young newbie, but instead yelled his thanks all the way down the corridor.

After Jack's story got around, a few more boys arrived. These boys were prepared for maximum criticism, and began lining up in Kurt's room like soldiers on parade. By coming early, they allowed themselves enough time to go away with Kurt's advice and buy a whole new outfit. If they were lucky, they could get away with borrowing a tie or jumper from Kurt's endless wardrobe.

Then came the last minute FLOOD. He could go half an hour before a knock on his door on Thursday, but they came thick and fast every five minutes on Friday night. Wes had tried to force his way through the door at around 11pm, but upon hearing Kurt scream, "NO! There is no way on this earth you are wearing your BLAZER! If you won't take my help, then GET OUT!" he had fled back to David and Blaine, deciding his French homework wasn't that important right now.

After rushing through his moisturising routine late Friday night, he was not impressed when three seniors burst in on him at some ungodly hour, offering him money, coffee, and chocolate to tell them whether to go with the striped tie or the black bow tie.

When he had managed to shoved the last from him room he collapsed on his bed; tired, sore, and grateful for not having a roommate. How did all these seniors know about him? How had they found his room? And why were there _SO MANY OF THEM_!

He admitted, on some level he loved the attention, he was finally getting noticed. He finally had a use at this school; he wasn't just another voice supporting Blaine's or Rachel's. Singing was his passion, but fashion was his art.

However, there was only so much of art his soul could take. Singing too much would make your throat raw, and too much fashion made his eyes bleed.

Understandably, when someone knocked on his door half an hour later he groaned. "I don't care WHAT you try and give me; I will _not_ let any of you wear your Dalton ties!"

"That's a shame; I thought they looked quite, what's the word, dapper? Isn't school-boy-chic making a comeback this year?" Blaine's lazy drawl made him jump.

Kurt twisted his head up to look at the boy standing in the doorway, who was, _thank god_, not wearing his uniform. "I don't think it's called making a comeback if you wear it constantly."

Laughing, Blaine stepped into the room, "So what about this outfit? Will this do?" He gave a mock twirl, simple loose jeans (that were tighter in just the right areas, Kurt drooled), and a grey striped shirt with a jumper over the top.

"For what?"

"For going shopping." He moved over and sat on the bed next to Kurt's feet. "Wes heard you yelling yourself hoarse last night, and I decided you need an escape from the Seniors' drap and mundane wardrobe. I was thinking maybe a trip to refresh yourself on why you actually like clothes in the first place. And apparently you've lent out most of your own stuff, so we may need to restock on some vitals." Blaine grinned, glancing over to Kurt's wardrobe. The door's were wide open and there were a few empty hangers lying on his desk.

Kurt stared at him for a little while, letting Blaine's gesture sink in, once again, he was offering Kurt and escape.

"That would be wonderful. But," He cocked one eyebrow, "you are definitely _not_ wearing those shoes."

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**Next up: Life Skills. Kurt get's taught the ways of Dalton by its finest prefects ;)**

**Reviews make me squee :)**


	2. Wood Shop

**A/N: WOAHH. Okay I am pretty much loving all of your beautiful reviews! My inbox was totally flooded with Favourite story notifications and I just wanted to say thanks! :D I squee-ed alot.**

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Wood Shop.

Sneaking out was pretty rare for Kurt. More often he was sneaking back in. He'd been caught out every times however, no matter how hard he had tried to be quiet. But mainly his dad would be sat up waiting for him, watching some sport channel, and Kurt would explain that Mercedes had put on a movie, or they had lost track of time bowling. He would never get in trouble though, because his dad knew he wasn't going out doing drugs or being a public menace like other boys his age.

He had never felt the rush of adrenaline trying to sneak past his dad's room late at night trying to flee the house. The only time he had felt anything close to teenage rebellion was when he arrived home an hour late after going to see RENT with Blaine because they had stopped for coffee and dessert at an empty cafe. Even then his dad hardly batted an eyelid; he just turned off the TV and told Kurt to ring ahead next time. Sometimes Kurt was happy his dad was so lenient, but other times he wished that his dad believed that he could be capable of some raunchy acts like stumbling in at 2am after a wild party full of illegal drinking and casual sex. Even his stunt of being drunk in school hadn't led his dad to consider the fact that Kurt could be off the rails.

So when he found out that sneaking out was a regular occurrence at Dalton, he was excited. His chance to take a step into the role of 'rebellious, trouble-maker teen' was here at last.

Sneaking out at Dalton was considered a type of ninja art. All the boys were skilled at some level, Kurt found out soon enough. Wes, David and Blaine had piled into his room after lights out on his first night for the opening part of his 'traditional Dalton Induction' (although they wouldn't explain what the other parts entailed, or even how many there were) where they explained the in's and out's of his new school and how to get around some of the stricter rules within the Dorm.

Blaine taught Kurt the simple ways of keeping teachers and bossy prefects out of your room when you were up late.

"It's really easy. Say you were having a late night study session," Wes laughed loudly, and was silenced with sharp look from Blaine, "It happens, Wesley! Okay Kurt, maybe studying isn't your thing, but if you were up late for whatever reason, all you need it black card."

"Card?" Kurt's eyebrows pulled up, and Blaine flashed him a cheeky smile that made Kurt's head scream _PLATONIC. THIS IS PLATONIC. _The older boy went over to his bag and pulled out a big reel of black card and duct tape, then walked over to Kurt's door.

"You stick it over the cracks in the door. You're lucky you don't have a window above your door like mine. I'm forever having to stick the blackout card up." After taping the card down, Blaine came back to the pile of duvets the boys had stacked up on the floor and were lying on.

David was king of getting out of sticky situations, Kurt found out.

"Now Kurt, if you ever get caught out of bed during the night, never ever claim you were sleepwalking. Not after the Great Warbler Party of '09. We were all lucky to not get suspended. It turns out the staff don't take kindly to twenty odd guys having shared sleepwalking experiences. Just say you needed the toilet or forgot to brush your teeth."

"That party was amazing." Wes sighed. Kurt turned his attention to the Warbler. As a senior prefect, Wes ranked higher than the normal dorm prefect positions that Blaine and David held. Supposedly every older boy who had boarded for a year was awarded some sort of responsibility, be it pastoral prefect or the much laughed at 'lights-out monitor'. Apparently these titles meant little in terms of abiding to rules.

"You know, I'm shocked." Kurt said, "Aren't you boys all supposed to be outstanding members of the boarding community?"

Blaine laughed, "You know, I think they actually pick the senior prefects based on their rule-breaking ability. Last year's Head Boy held a party in our common room until 2am with girls _and_ drink without even one faculty complaint."

"And if you have that position, you can usually organise the troops well and avoid waking up the whole school." David added.

"Plus it helps when the teacher on duty is deaf Mr Micheals." Wes smiled fondly. "Twice a week, and if you're lucky, a Friday night every month, he makes the rounds at 9pm before practically barricading himself in his room until 11am."

"So what secrets have you to tell me, Wes?" Kurt asked, feeling much more confident talking to these boys now they were sharing all their knowledge with him.

"Go on Wes, boast." David sighed, adjusting his duvet to make a pillow.

A wide grin burst onto Wes's face. "You see young one," He leaned back onto the side of Kurt's bed, hands behind his head. "Having a girlfriend in an all boys' school has its drawbacks, like the 10pm curfew. How am I supposed to keep her happy on a date when I am jumpy about being caught out late?"

David scoffed, "You don't sneak out to see your girlfriend half the amount of time you claim you do! Most of the time you just go out and get us food!"

"And what a scrawny little guy you would be if I didn't supply our late night feasts! Don't be ungrateful David!" Wes retorted.

"Instead of arguing like children, why don't we just go and show our newbie your skill?" Blaine said, jumping in before David could open his mouth to reply.

"Excellent idea, Anderson." Wes leapt up so fast he almost caused a duvet avalanche. He ran to the door and peeked out. "All clear guys!"

David hauled himself up, "Let's go watch Wes show off, you said. Blaine, if he starts getting crazily hyper like last time, I will not be responsible for what I do." After shaking his head, the boy followed after his friend.

"You okay Kurt?" Blaine asked, seeing the stunned look on Kurt's face.

"Yeah, yeah fine. It's just... it's so surreal. I mean, being here instead of at home. And the sneaking out. It will just take time to get used to I guess. Don't laugh, but um," He fixed Blaine with a stare, "I've never had reason to sneak out of my house before. "

Blaine smiled. "Why would I laugh at that? To tell you the truth, there's a good reason why I'm the worst at all the sneaking out methods." He pointed to his feet. "I'm so clumsy. My first night, Wes tried to hold the Induction Sleepover in his and David's room, but I made such a racket tripping over in the dark that I woke the whole dorm up. Thankfully Mr Micheals was on duty, but I don't really attempt to get out much. Wes likes people to know the tricks of the trade though; it gives all the boys a sense of unity I guess."

Kurt nodded in understanding.

"Anyway, the only time I really broke the rules was that time I left campus to see you when-"

But before Kurt could find out what rules Blaine broke for him, David's head popped round the door and hissed, "Guys, you can have your heart to heart later. Wes is going slightly crazed."

They both laughed lightly, and Blaine gave Kurt a push. "Come on then, let's show you the path to suspension."

The entrance to the dorms was a large fire door. There was a rope hanging on the wall next to it in a large glass box labelled, 'Break in case of Emergency'.

"It used to be magnetised." Blaine whispered in his ear, making Kurt jump about 50 feet and his heart thud in his ears so loudly he had to concentrate when Blaine carried on. "But one of the Juniors worked out how to simulate a current to disable it within a week, so now they just have a pulley system with locks." He pointed over Kurt's shoulder to the glass box.

"Isn't there like, security cameras around?" Kurt eyed a suspicious looking object on the wall above them.

"That same junior hacked into the school television system. He makes sure the camera plays a loop on an empty corridor every night after lights out." Kurt whistled in appreciation.

Now that Wes had a full audience he cracked his knuckles. "Okay gentlemen, step back. Master at work."

He pulled a teaspoon out of his pocket and slipped it onto the top lock diagonally. "The trick is to twist and-" there was an audible click, "ah-ha. Remember Kurt, that second one," he pointed to an older and rusty lock, "is just for show. Stick anything in there and it will snap."

Next he moved over o the glass case and set about using the spoon like a screwdriver on the corners. With a flourish, he caught the screws one by one as they popped out and swung the glass box out on a hinge.

"I think our new Dalton boy should have the honours." Wes gave a mock bow to Kurt, who tentatively reached out and pulled the rope. The large door swung inwards without so much of a creak.

"So Kurt, you pulled the rope. You know how to access unlimited freedom. I would say welcome to Dalton, but we have a few more tasks for you to pass before we swear you in."

"Wes, don't scare the guy!" David sighed. "You make it sound so dramatic."

But Kurt could barely hear their whispered argument. Adrenaline was pumping through him. He was breaking the rules. He could get suspended or expelled. But he didn't feel the crippling fear like he had at Mckinley. He had just the right balance of feeling afraid and feeling brave._ This was brilliant._

He snapped out of his thoughts when Wes slung an arm over his shoulders. "So Kurt. First night in boarding. You might not know what it feels like to be trapped in these halls for months, but you will soon. Where do you want to go?"

"No Wes, we didn't agree-" Blaine started.

"Oh come on Blaine! Live a little!"

"I told you think would happen if you let him get too worked up." David muttered to no-one in particular. "Nobody ever listens to me."

Blaine was at Kurt's side, laying a hand on his arm. "Kurt, really if you don't want to just say. It's your choice. Don't let Wes pressure you."

"No, it's okay." He looked down at himself. "We're all in our pyjamas though."

"We're all in sweats and t-shirts. It's passable as jogging clothes." David said, cheering up with the prospect of getting out so that Wes could calm down.

Kurt turned around to look at Blaine. "Do you want to?"

The boy shrugged, "It would be nice to get out." He grinned and looked at Wes. "The senior prefect has a point. Being stuck in does get to me."

"Okay then." Kurt turned back to Wes. "As long as we go somewhere no-one important will see me dressed like this."

Wes rubbed his hands together with glee and a glint in his eye that reminded Kurt of Disney villains. "Oh I know just the place."

And that was how on his first night in boarding, Kurt ended up in a Mcdonalds eating ice cream with three Warblers. The place was deserted apart from the sleepy girl behind the counter filing her nails and listening into their conversation with a look of extreme boredom.

"A toast," Blaine said, raising his caramel Mcflurry, "to Kurt. Our newest floor-mate, and certified rule breaker."

"To Kurt!" David and Wes joined in, bumping their ice cream containers with Blaine's and Kurt's.

_This is actually going to be alright,_ Kurt thought. _They've gone out of their way to include me when they could have just ignored me. I should have guessed they would have been as welcoming as Blaine. _Kurt stared at the boy sitting across from him who was laughing loudly at David yelling at Wes for eating all of his chocolate flake pieces. He then caught Kurt's eye and winked, before leaning over and scooping a large spoonful of Kurt's precious Dairy Milk Swirl.

Wes had left the spoon in the door like a crude doorstop for when the snuck back in, nursing brain freezes. They all collapsed on Kurt's floor, snuggled in the many duvets, because Blaine had decreed none were allowed the mattress as it was 'against Dalton code to let your friends suffer on the floor whilst you lay in comfort'.

As Kurt drifted off, he heard David whisper, "We'll have to show you how we order take out this weekend."

"Yeah," Wes sighed, "We have a rope ladder and everything."

"You'll love it." Blaine laughed from somewhere nearby.

And Kurt believed him.

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**Kurt was originally going to be really stroppy in this, but I wanted him to be more starry eyed at everything being new and exciting.**

**Next is either psychology or english.**

**Reviews make me squee :)**


	3. PE

**A/N: Yeah, it's not psychology. I'm still writing that one. This wrote itself last night so don't waste time reading this bit, the Klaine is down there!**

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**PE**

It always surprised people when they found out how sporty Kurt was, or used to be. It wasn't as if the boy gave off the typical '_fat-kid-who-hates-exercise_' vibe. The boy was as slender as they came. No, it was more the '_how-dare-sweat-ruin-my-perfect-clothes_' ideal that many at Dalton had associated with him. So when Blaine, Wes, and David had found out that Kurt was not only a _football player_ and a _cheerleader_ about two months after Kurt's transfer, there was much spluttering and chocking on food. Food, because it was lunch when Kurt had gotten that call from Quinn.

The four boys were sat around a small table at the back of Dalton's lunch hall when Wes felt the table vibrate.

"Someone's phone is going." Wes said casually, twirling his spaghetti around and around on his fork, before lifting it up and only getting one or two strands in his mouth as the others fell back onto his plate, splashing his shirt with more tomato sauce.

The other three boys all grabbed their phones, but Kurt held his out successfully. "Forget it, I'm the popular one." He smirked. "Hello?"

There was a short silence in which Blaine watched Wes attempt to force the spaghetti into his mouth by bringing his face nearer to the plate. This was slightly more successful, but resulted in sauce covering the boy's chin. Blaine stifled a laugh, causing Wes to glare at him.

"I hate spaghetti day."

"Try cutting it up like a civilised person." David quipped. He was manically slicing each strand into tiny bite size pieces, then using a spoon to scoop them up.

"Where's the fun in that though?" Wes whined. "You just have OCD about your food."

At this point Kurt flapped his arm, narrowly missing Wes's face (and causing him to lose another forkful of spaghetti), trying to get them to shut up. He put a finger in his free ear.

"Sorry Quinn, Coach Sylvester wants what?"

Pause.

"No I'm not giving it back! Who would she possibly have to wear it anyway? No guys in McKinnley would dare join the Cherrios except me!"

Pause.

"No, I don't care what she threatens me with. That uniform is going on Ebay someday as a Kurt Hummel's Before He Was Famous collectible! It will be worth thousands."

Pause.

"Of course I still fit in it...Wha... No I don't parade around in it all day!"

Pause.

"Or at night." His eyes rolled, but a red blush began to creep up his neck.

Pause.

"Bye Quinn. Tell everyone I say hi."

Pause.

"No, I don't- GOODBYE QUINN." He punched the hang up button with a lot more force than necessary.

"What was that about?" Blaine asked the still blushing Kurt, who mumbled something that sounded like _wamnooniformback_.

"What?"

"My older cheerleading coach wants my uniform back."

Silence descended over the table. Kurt refused to meet any of the eyes that stared at him incredulously.

"It was only for a little while." He murmured. "Only until we won Nationals."

"Kurt," Blaine started, "I will never cease to be surprised by you."

David chuckled, "Seriously Kurt? Don't the male cheerleaders have to have super strong arms to do all the lifts? No offense, but you're not exactly a body builder."

"Hey, uncalled for!" But Kurt smiled, glad this was going in the opposite direction to where he had been expecting.

Wes grinned. "Any other deep dark secrets you should confess to us that we could possibly blackmail you with later? Maybe you were the Quarterback?"

Kurt gave them a sly smile, "Well, I wasn't the Quarterback, but I would you believe me if I said I was on the football team?" Next to him, Blaine dropped his cutlery.

"No." Wes said bluntly.

"Really, I was."

"Oh pull the other one Kurt."

"I was the kicker. I helped the team win their first game. Again, I was only on it for a short time, but it counts. I've still got that uniform too actually."

"We need proof." David stated.

"Sure, I've got the jersey in my cupboard upstairs." Kurt grinned, standing up and walking out of the room so quickly that Wes's spaghetti hadn't even fallen off his fork yet.

David and Wes exchanged a glance, and then turned their attention to their friend who hadn't spoken since Kurt's second reveal. He was still staring at where Kurt had been sat with glazed eyes.

"Blaine, you okay?"

"Kurt... was on the football team?"

"Here we go." David muttered.

"Kurt... and football?"

"Yes Blaine."

"And he... he still has the uniform?"

"Blaine, pick your jaw off the floor." Wes sniggered.

"Yeah, you're drooling all over your food." David added.

"Guys. This is serious."

"We can see that, Blaine."

"I love football."

"Yes, we know."

"And Kurt plays football."

"Well, he used to."

"And somewhere in this school... Kurt has a football uniform."

"He's got Halloween sorted hasn't he?" Wes laughed, before getting elbowed by David. "Ow, what was that for?"

"I think Blaine's having some sort of epiphany Wes. A Kurt related epiphany."

"It's about time."

But their friend didn't say anything else. He merely blinked a few times until the weird haze in his eyes disappeared, then carried his tray over to the bins, and strode out of the room.

"Any chance he's gone to maul Kurt in his dorm room?" David drawled.

"Not a chance." Wes replied.

They had a hard time explaining to Kurt about his absence when Kurt returned with his football jersey.

"Maybe you should take it to him later on? He seemed really enthusiastic about you keeping your uniforms." Wes laughed, receiving a kick in the shins from David under the table.

~#~

Later on that week, Wes, Blaine and Kurt were sat on near the tennis courts after curfew. It was their favourite spot to sit when the common room was too crowded. David had gone inside an hour ago, complaining about a test the next day, and so the three boys were sat chatting, keeping an eye out for any patrolling teachers. It was just coming up to eleven thirty when Wes's phone rang.

"Hello?"

Kurt could hear David's voice come out in a frantic yell.

"Shit. Okay we're coming in." Wes jumped to his feet, hanging up. "Guys, Jones is on duty and he's looking for us. David sent him to the common room, and he's putting out the rope ladder for us."

Kurt understood Wes's urgency. Sergeant Jones, as he insisted on being called, was the most brutal educator Kurt had come across (aside from one cheerleading coach who still was out for his blood about the uniform). He was known to force the boys to do press-ups in his lessons for any wrong answer, and he was frequently making the boarders run laps if he was on duty and they were 'making too much noise'. The man towered above everyone, and commanded respect with terrifying attention to discipline.

"Oh god. Guys look." Blaine whispered, pointing through the trees. They all saw a light flickering towards them, advancing through the darkness. If they were caught out after curfew, they would be suspended, and Kurt couldn't do that to his Dad and Carole. There was also the fact that this man advancing towards them through the dark made even the toughest of the Dalton boys cry like little girls.

"Run!" Hissed Wes.

Kurt didn't need telling twice. He took off like a startled deer, racing behind the tennis courts away from Jones. Luckily he had made his way back in the dark after these late excursions many times, or he would have gotten completely lost on the back path that wound its way towards the school. He kept running, dodging tree branches and large rocks in his path. When the path came out of the greenery, he raced along the grass instead of the loud gravel, drawing closer to the old building. He sighed with relief when he reached the rope ladder dangling down from David's second story window, and using the last of his adrenaline he climbed it with ease.

David was waiting at the window, and helped him clamber through.

"Thanks. Have you got any water?" Kurt panted, completely out of breath.

"Sure." David grabbed a bottle on his night stand and chucked it at Kurt who had collapsed onto the bed. "Kurt, do you realise how fast you just ran up here? I called Wes literally two minutes ago."

The worn out boy stopped glugging the water. "Really?"

"Yeah. Wes and Blaine won't be here for at least another five minutes. How did you manage it?"

He shrugged, "Maybe I went a different way?"

David shook his head, "No I saw you come out of the trees by the back path. Dude you are fast!"

Kurt just knocked back more water. Years of being chased by bullies, Cherrios, and the football training had obviously paid off. Hell, maybe all that dancing in Glee helped.

"Do you know we have a track team here? It's not really for competitions, more for cross country and general fitness upkeep. You should really join. I go on Wednesdays, but I'm nowhere near as fast as you."

As Kurt was considering his apparent talent, Wes's face popped up at the window. David ran over and grabbed his arm, helping the red-faced boy in.

".dying." He proclaimed, before falling face first onto the floor.

"I'll get the drama queen some water." David laughed.

No sooner than the older boy disappeared, then black curls appeared at the open window. Kurt, almost fully recovered, went over and helped Blaine inside. Blaine winced when his feet touched the floor, letting out a sharp noise of pain.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, keeping one hand on Blaine's shoulder to steady him.

"Yeah, I just tripped halfway here."

"Here, let me help." Kurt pulled one of the injured boy's arms around his shoulders and guided him around a seemingly passed-out Wes and onto the bed. Blaine pulled himself back so he was leaning against the wall.

"Is it your ankle?" Kurt demanded.

"Kurt, I'm fine."

"No, you aren't." He grabbed the cuff of Blaine's jeans and rolled them up, inspecting any damage, but to be honest he had no idea what he was supposed to be looking at. "Well," He said at last, "it doesn't look swollen."

Blaine laughed. "It's fine. I just need to rest."

"Well, that was fun." David said from the window, making Kurt jump. He hadn't realised that the other boy had returned. David rolled up the rope ladder and stashed it away under the bed Blaine was sitting on.

"Thanks David." Kurt sighed, sitting down next to Blaine.

"Thanks." Blaine and Wes chorused accepting a cup of water each from David.

"Hey, Kurt?" Wes mumbled into the carpet. "How the hell did you manage to run that fast? One minute you were there, the next you were a mile away."

Kurt just laughed.

After David had checked to see it the coast was clear a few minutes later, Blaine hobbled back to his room with Wes. As Kurt followed, David called to him out of the door, "You know running is great stress and tension relief? Not just school tension, sexual tension too." And with a wink, the boy slammed the door on a red-faced Kurt.

~#~

Wednesday afternoons at Dalton was always reserved for sport. Kurt usually did some ping pong followed by aerobics, not wanting to try out for any teams with his school work and Warbler pressure. The afternoon sport sessions were planned so that there was a break in-between sessions which allowed Kurt a chance to go back to his room for a few minutes of peace.

The Wednesday after his famous run from Jones was no different. He had done his first hour of leisurely table tennis, and was making his way out through the dorm corridor from his room, ready to go down to aerobics (fashionable headband included in the outfit of course). He had almost reached the end of the dorms when the corridor opened and Blaine walked in.

In a towel. With his curls plastered to his forehead. In pink flip flops. Walking towards him. With water dripping over his defined muscles. And his arms. _Oh god._

Kurt had never quite understood the appeal of swimming until now. And he was so thankful Dalton had a pool. And a swim team. That Blaine was on.

"Hey Kurt." Blaine flashed him a smile as we went by, running a hand through his damp hair.

Kurt found it incredibly hard to carry on walking at a normal pace. He didn't dare trust his voice, so he just smiled in a hopefully non-dazed way.

_Keep walking. Left foot, right foot, left foot... which foot next? Oh crap._

Then a door on his right opened and David stepped out. He took one look at Kurt's face, glanced down the hall to see Blaine disappearing into his own room, and grinned evilly.

"Alright Kurt?"

Kurt just stared at David. "Puh." He blinked, swallowed, and cleared his throat. "I think I'll come running with you today." His voice came out too airy, too light.

David didn't laugh; he just slung an arm around the dazed boy and dragged him down to the track.

~#~

As he had compulsory swim team training on Sunday mornings, Blaine only had to do an hour of PE on Wednesdays. That meant he had the dorm practically to himself for the second session of PE, and he could have an early shower before the storm of boys came rushing in after their own sports had finished.

After a loud sing along to Katy Perry in the shower, he had spent the rest of his free hour catching up on work. When the bell rung signalling the end of lessons, he decided to go down to the kitchens to beg the cooks for some food. If they were in a good mood he could get a few cakes. Maybe he could take one to Kurt. The boy probably needed something to eat after sport. Then maybe Blaine could approach the topic of Kurt playing football. He just had to remember that Kurt did it a long time ago, it wasn't like he was on the football team now, so there was no need for him to get so _flustered._

The last thing Blaine expected to see when he left his room was Kurt laughing with David, hair no longer fixed in place with masses of hairspray, wearing a unlawfully tight shirt that was practically plastered to his skin. His face was flushed, his cheeks rosy, and his air of confidence seemed boosted. He looked so unlike Blaine's image obsessed friend. Not that Blaine didn't love the way Kurt dressed, but this was different. Kurt looked... relaxed, at home, one of the guys... _hot_. Not just hot, sweaty. Steamy.

So it was perfectly understandable that the swimmer was reduced to jelly when Kurt walked past with a casual, "Hey Blaine."

He could definitely imagine Kurt as a football player now...

He _had_ to see that uniform.

* * *

**Thanks so much for all the reviews and favourite stories and all of that guys! It makes me so happy :)**

**Now because I'm British I have to wait until Wednesday to see Original Song. Very annoying, but I thought I would put this up to fill my Klaine need. **

**Oh and the stuff about the spoon in the last chapter? Totally true, I go to a boarding school as a day pupil and the boarders have amazing escape routes.**


	4. Maths

**a/n: this one is really short but it needs a kind of filler before I launch into the other ones I had planned. **

**I also really wanted to wait before they became canon to continue, because I had a really terribly idea on how to do the kiss but now... OMG BOYFRIENDS 3 THE KISS AND PROM AND BREADSTICKS**

**ok flailing over. **

* * *

Kurt's best quality was also his worst.

He was competitive. He loved to be the best. Really, who doesn't?

Getting a solo over Rachel, even being the best kicker the football team had ever seen gave him a thrill. At McKinley he sometimes purposely sat next to someone a little stupider than him so he would get the ego boost from beating them in tests.

Smug smiles were his specialty.

But Dalton somehow put a stop to all that. Classes were hard. The curriculum was different, and sometimes Kurt just wanted to crawl under his desk because his brain hurt so much from being so confused _all the damn time._

So it really didn't help when Kurt realised his best friend was some sort of mathematical genius.

"Kurt, come on, maths isn't that bad." Blaine chuckled from his spot on Kurt's bed.

They were studying in Kurt's room, Blaine on the bed, Kurt at his desk with his head crushing his textbook.

"I just don't understand anything." He tried to wail, but it just came out muffled.

"I promise, the more you go over it the better it gets."

"Blaine." Kurt turned his head slightly so he could glare at his friend with one eye, nose touching his calculator. "I appreciate the pep talk, but statistics is literally killing me. I do believe numbers have decided to integrate themselves into my brain and are currently trying to differentiate the hell out of my vital organs."

"...okay I don't think you quite understand the concepts of integration and differentiation." Blaine laughed quietly.

"And who the hell invented decision maths? It's not even real maths! It's what computers do. And that is why we own computers and calculators Blaine, _to do the work for us."_

"Okay, come here."

Kurt raised his head off his desk. "What?"

"You need a friend, not a tutor. I won't help you until you ask me to, Kurt. But you need to calm down or you will crack from the stress." Blaine got off the bed and pulled Kurt to his feet, enveloping him in a tight hug for someone of his height.

"Just promise that you will come to me when you need help okay? Wes had to take away all of my red bull and forcefully make me go to bed during my first month here because I just stayed up working. He claimed it was because if I got sick they would lose a warbler, but we all worry about each other really. "

And once again, Kurt was struck with the need to cry around Blaine. God damn it, why was he so emotional? It wasn't like nobody had cared about him before, and sure Kurt knew it was only a 'just friends' way of caring, but it was still nice having someone so concerned about his well being.

Recently, he had been the carer. He had to look after his dad, and there was only so much his dad could understand about his... situation. And then there was no-one he had told as much to as Blaine. And he still cared, and still wanted to know more.

Blaine let him go, but still held him with a firm look.

"Promise? Because I know how stubborn you are."

"Yeah, I promise." Please, whatever God was out there, don't let Blaine have heard the crack in his voice.

"Good. Now let's go get some food before curfew."

Xx

A few nights later, Kurt went into Blaine's room and flung his most recent maths test in the boy's general direction before flopping on his friend's bed.

"Would it be okay to take you up on that offer?" Kurt sighed as Blaine stared at his big fat F.

"First things first. Come on." Blaine grabbed him by his hand lead him outside to the tennis courts, despite Kurt's protests.

"There is one thing we must do before you try again, Kurt" Blaine said, who was starting to sound more like a karate master than his friend.

"What's that?" Kurt cocked an eyebrow.

Blaine slid a lighter out of his pocket, and before Kurt knew what was going on, his test was slowly burning.

"Blaine! What are you doing?"

"Just watch it Kurt, watch it burn. It's very therapeutic."

"I think you are insane."

"Kurt, you can't move forward if you look back. Just burn the past and concentrate on the future."

...Was he still talking about _maths?_

Stunned into silence, he watched his paper that he had spent nights revising for, burn. It was strange how he felt so attached to the thing, but at the same time he was really glad to see it erased from his life so violently. That is, until the fire crept higher towards Blaine's hand and he had to drop it on the grass and stamp it out, leaving a noticeable scorched patch.

"Feel better?"

"Surprisingly, yes."

"Great. Now the thing you have to remember about integration is..."

Xx

Blaine was either a very good teacher, or Kurt was a very attentive student. To be honest, the way Blaine got so passionate and involved with his work was the reason why Kurt kept coming back to him with problems. And the way Blaine's face lit up when he realised Kurt understood was worth all the tedious math problems.

About a month later, Kurt bounced into Blaine's room with his latest mark, proudly showing off an A to both Blaine and his roommate.

Maybe it was too much for Blaine to say, "Well done Kurt, I'm really proud of you." And maybe when he showed his own B+ he should have been mad at the way Kurt's fake 'oh I'm so sorry for you' was so obvious.

But Blaine just couldn't bring himself to be mad at Kurt.

"Blaine." His roommate said when Kurt had left.

"Yeah?"

"You didn't tell Kurt you missed out the back page, did you?"

Blaine just smiled.

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**insert excuses for typos here because I didn't exactly check it over. I am lazy.**

**Reviews and favourites make my day. Honestly, all I live for now is maths revision (A2's) and I sort of made Kurt feel my pain. **


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